


I'm interesting and you don't want to sleep with me. Do you?

by GratiaPlena



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6092056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GratiaPlena/pseuds/GratiaPlena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this story Jane is asexual yet Rizzles is very much endgame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angela

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doranwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/gifts), [DoctorMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorMonster/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Jane's Journey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3635046) by [DoctorMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorMonster/pseuds/DoctorMonster). 



> This story is Rizzles but with an ace twist. I've always felt that Jane is more the asexual type, but hasn't allowed herself to explore that side of her. 
> 
> I wrote the beginning of this story years ago and the end because of the fic Jane's Journey by Doctormonster. It also deals with Jane's asexuality and it is really good. Go check it out! No wait. AFTER reading this story ;-) Anyway, Doranwen commented and urged me to finish my shelved story and...voila! Thank you!

Jane’s not picking up. Her phone goes to voicemail. She’s avoiding me and it’s not fair. I gave birth to her. You think the least she can do is pick up the phone?

Granted, she has a lot of reasons to avoid a conversation with me right now. I was a little harsh to her earlier. She needed some tough love, but I said something that was not right and it has been gnawing on my mind all the way back home.

I confronted her about her bad mood now that Casey was set to return to Boston. After a little prodding she told me she wanted to see him, but she thought he’d expect to sleep with her. Well, I told her that it was part and parcel of a healthy adult relationship and that she shouldn’t make him feel bad about it. That we all need to give and take a little. We got into a big argument about women’s rights and parenting and all kinds of unrelated subjects. I had to leave.

But I thought about our argument more and I think I shouldn’t have said the thing about letting Casey have his way. So she needs to pick up now. Right now.

But her phone goes to voicemail again. “Oh for crying out loud pick up the phone, Jane!” I record after the beep. I hang up and try again.

“Jane Clementine Rizzoli!!” I shout into her voicemail this time. Oh, but I’ll keep trying. I’m her mother. I’m sure she’ll pick up next time. She knows I’ll be at it all night if she doesn’t pick up now. Or worse, I’ll be back at her door again. I’ve done it before. Phoning more than three times means that I mean business. I dial her number again.

Just as I’m getting ready to recount her painful birth story into her voicemail, she has come to her senses. I hear a click and her weary voice: “Ma, enough already.”

“No, it’s not enough. Do you know how many hours…” I’m just about to go into her birth story when I realize that wasn’t actually what I was phoning her for.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hours of pain, no drugs in those days blah blah,” she mocks.

“Yes, but that’s not what I’m phoning for. I’m taking it back.”

“That’s about 34 years too late, ma!”

“Very funny Jane, I’m not talking about your birth. Although I wish Icould take you back. You were so safe within me…”

“Ma..!!” she warns.

“Yes, well, I’m just saying. Anyway. I take back what I said about Casey. If you don’t want to sleep with him, then you tell him no. Alright? I said it wrong.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t ‘okay’ me. I need you to understand that this isn’t right. What I told you was not right. And I’m sorry. And you need to stand up for yourself. Will you?”

“Yeah, ma.”

“Good. ‘Cause I thought about it all the way home. And it’s the unhappiest thing I’ve ever experienced when I had sex with someone I didn’t want to...''

''Eww, ma!"

"No let me finish. It is so awful to have sex with someone that you don't want to have sex with at that moment. It’s the loneliest feeling in the world.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah, so you tell him. If he’s worth his salt, he’ll wait till you’re ready.”

“Ma?” she says with a small voice.

“Yes, Janie?”

“What if I’m never ready?”

“You think you’ll never be ready?”

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t love him.”  
I try to say it as a question and not an accusation, but I can’t believe I’m hearing this. This is the so-manieth guy Jane has been dating and just when it’s about to get serious and I’m getting my hopes up...bam! I’m beginning to think Carla is right and Jane is a lesbian. Maybe I should introduce her to some nice women.  

Jane’s reply confuses me though: “ I like him. I don’t know, it’s so confusing. I just don’t want to sleep with him. I never did. It’s like you say. So lonely...I don’t….”

I can hear that she’s crying and my heart breaks. Ever since she was a baby she had a loud wail for when she needed attention, but a soft, almost inaudible sobbing when she was in real pain. It still breaks my heart into a million pieces when I hear it. I wish I can reach through the phone and hug her and kiss her on top of her unruly dark curls. I suppose she is relieved that I can’t. She never was one for hugs and kisses. She was always squirming away from me, even when she was a little baby. A thought flashes through my mind and I voice it immediately:

“Janie, have you wanted to sleep with someone, ever, at any moment?”

I hear nothing but her heartbreaking silent crying.

“Oh sweetie, Janie,  don’t cry. Have you ever wanted to?”

“.....No….”

“Oh sweetheart. Listen. I’m coming back.”

“No ma, i’m good. I’ll be fine.”

I can hear her wipe her tears with her sleeve. My brave girl.

“I know you will, Janie. But I won’t be. I need to see you again. I need to know you’re okay. I’ll be right over.”

I hang up immediately. No need for another argument. Maura told me that having arguments is not good for my cortisol. I don’t know what that is, exactly, but she’s a doctor. So.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After i finished this fic I realised I used Casey as a plot devise in the first chapter, only to let him vanish into thin air in the chapters to come. I considered a rewrite but then realised this is entirely in keeping with the actual R&I show's style, so please consider his convenient disappearance off the face of the planet a loving tribute to JTam and JNash! I think Jane just brought Casey back to the zoo, or maybe his original wife came to pick him up and he is called Beardo now. Fill in the blanks as you wish!


	2. Angela again

“And they were on discount!” I beam.

“They compliment your outfit excellently,” Maura says. She places her shopping bags on the counter. “I think they will also go well with your purple summer dress.”

“Exactly! I just knew I had to buy them. Um...Maura?” I fiddle with my house keys.

“Yes?”

“I saw this person on Dr. Phil that didn’t want to have sex.”

“Oh did you? That’s interesting! I have recorded the show. That will be highly informative to watch.”

“Oh uhm..it’s not a recent episode. It was on a while back, but I was just thinking about it now.” I feel my face redden.

“Oh.” She studies me for a moment. “You want to ask me about the condition?”

“Yes, yes exactly.”

She smiles a bright smile. “Ask away!” she states as she puts her shopping in the fridge.

I walk to the kitchen island and steady myself. “Uhm...It’s not normal, is it? Do these people have a medical problem?” I ask and wince a little at my choice of words.

“Asexuality is mostly neither a medical nor a psychological condition. It simply is another mode on the spectrum of human sexuality. But in some cases a lower libido can certainly be caused by a medical condition. A physical change or a lifestyle change may trigger temporary or permanent loss of libido, for example. Or sometimes hormonal changes in the body makes sex uncomfortable or even painful.” She turns towards me. “Women of a certain age often feel less inclined towards sexual activity. That is nothing to worry about, Angela.” She studies me intently.

“Oh! No!...No no, not me. I’m not asking for me. I like…., you know...sure some days more than others, but...no.”

“Okay,” she says as she turns and closes the fridge. I can just tell that she doesn’t believe me.

“I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for a friend.”

“Who was on dr. Phil?”

Drat. “Well, no...that was a lie, but…”

“Angela, tell your friend that there’s nothing wrong with asexuality nor with a temporarily or permanently tempered libido. Any doctor would be glad to speak with her about it. There are gels if sex is painful, for example. Besides, there are many other ways people can enjoy each other’s company. Sex does not have to be a pivotal activity within a relationship. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Okay. Thanks, Maura. You’re such a smartie.”  I mean it. She’s got more brains than all my three children combined. I’m glad to have her in the family, in a manner of speaking. I feel considerably calmer now. There may be something a doctor can do. Maybe he can get Janie some gels and then she can marry someone and have grandchildren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Nile is a river in Egypt sweet Angela ;-)


	3. Cailin

My big sister takes the clean cutlery out of the dishwasher with rubber gloves on. I’m not even kidding. She’s a weirdo. A lovable weirdo, but a weirdo nonetheless. I’ve only been living with her for a few weeks and she’s already driving me nuts with her little rituals and peculiarities. The teaspoons all have to face to the right in the drawer, or else she gets flustered. She tries not to get flustered - really tries - but inevitably fails.

“So what are your plans for the evening?” she asks me.

“Dunno. Homework,” I sigh. “Can I ask Hannah and Isobel over? We have to work on a math project.”

“Maybe you can go to their place?” says Maura. She proceeds to take the cups out of the dishwasher. All their handles need to face to the right in the cupboard. Not kidding. “Cailin?”

“Oh, uh, yeah I suppose. Do you have plans?”

“Well, Jane is coming over. It’s tuesday.”

Yeah, what’s up with that? Jane is here all the time. And her mother lives in the back yard for god’s sake! “Do you need the place to yourselves to make sweet lurrrrve?” I tease.

“To whom?” asks my polite and clueless sister.

“To Jane, dummy.”

“Oh! Oh, gosh no.” She blushes.

“Look, Maur’, I’m fine with gays. I really don’t mind who you date. It’s 2014 for god’s sake.”

“Thanks. Thank you, Caitlin, that is very open minded of you. As a Two on the Kinsey scale I appreciate that you would approve of my dating choice, no matter what their gender is. However, I’m not dating Jane.”

“Why not?” I ask her partially out of sincere interest, but partially because I seem to have hit a nerve.. The cups are being put into the cupboard with randomly distributed handle directions! “I understand your confusion,” she says. “Many people have mistaken us for lovers. And I have to admit that I have certainly explored the possibility. We are highly compatible. However, Jane has never reacted favourably to any sexual advances. So she’s either not attracted to females, or not attracted to me.”

“Or not attracted to anyone,” I add. “I’ve never met any person as frigid as Jane.”

“Frigid is not an inclusive word,” says Maura sternly.

“Well, sooorry. Sexually frustrated?”

“No. Asexual, demisexual, gray-A, celibate perhaps. OH! “ She suddenly shouts, peels off her gloves and throws them on the counter. “I will finish this later. I need to go check on something.”

“Sure.” I sigh as she trots off on her high heels. Bunch of weirdos. It will be good to be out of the house for the evening. I decide to phone Hannah. 


	4. Maura

 

I don’t know why I need the plaid on the couch to be perfect, it’s only going to be Jane. But I refold it until it’s perfect anyway. The candles on the table get rearranged too. I fret about lighting them or not. Not!!! I scold myself. I can be such a social cripple. Of course not. Lit candles are for dates.

I hear her knock on the door and it feels like someone pours iced water down my spine. I feel so much dread about the conversation I’m about to initiate, yet at the same time so much anticipation at possibly unraveling a big part of the mystery that is my friend.

I open the door and she’s beautiful. A dimpled smile, hair in loose black curls.

“I picked up a bottle of wine on the way,” she says.

“Oh good,” I squeak. “I’ll get some glasses.”

She follows me to the kitchen and I can tell that she is watching me.

“What’s up, Maur’?”

“What’s up where?” I croak. I hate how my nerves are affecting my voice.

“It’s a saying. I mean: what is going on? Why are you acting all formal?” She puts the wine on the counter and leans against it, still looking at me intently with those dark eyes.

“Idiom.”

“Sorry?”

“You mean that it is an idiom, not a saying.”

“And now you’re deflecting. What’s going on, Maur’? Come on, spill.” She holds up her hand as a warning. “And don’t ask ‘Spill what?’ or I’ll scream.”

I nervously fiddle with the corkscrew. I don’t want her to scream, but I am also entirely confused about the anticipated spillage. It must be an idiom too. Oh god. This is absolutely disastrous. And now the cork doesn’t come out. I feel a sudden shortness of breath and grip the side of the counter.

“Ow, geez.. It means ‘talk’, Maura. Share, speak, divulge.” She places a hand on my shoulder. “Look, don’t go into a panic attack. I just want to know if you’re okay?”

“N-no, c-can’t breathe…” I press my fingers to my neck to feel my pulse. It is so rapid. Oh god, I’m going to stupidly faint now and ruin the whole evening.

I feel the pressure of Jane’s hand rubbing my shoulder. It is all I feel or think about and after a little while I can hear her voice above the drumming of my heart.

“....ood, Maur’. We’re in your kitchen. You’re okay. You’re alright.”

I grip the sides of the counter and take a shaky breath. I’m okay. .

"Come." She leads me to the couch. "Sit. You okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

We sit in silence for a while. I can sense that she's scrutinizing my every movement. The way I wring my hands. The way I'm trying to still get my breathing pattern in check. The way I'm looking everywhere but at her. Even if I wanted to poultry out now, she wouldn't let me.

Shakily I find my voice. "I have done research."

"Well wow!" she shouts. "Now there's a shocker!"

I think I recognise the signs. Her gestures are wider than called for, her voice is louder than neccessary, there's a  cheeriness in her voice that doesn't seem sincere and I research frequently. It shouldn't come as a shock. I look up. "Sarcasm?"

"Sarcasm," she confirms.

I nod and look down. "Just making sure..." 

Another long silence stretches between us. I'm carefully weighing my words, failing to find the perfect ones until she interrupts.

"Alright, Maur'. I'll bite. What did you research?"

I can tell she is getting impatient with me, so I reply instantly. "Human sexuality."

She frowns. "Err... is this your way of saying... have you been watching porn?"

I'm surprised at the irrelevance of her question. "No," I reply evenly. "Not as part of the research."

She turns her head away in disgust. "Oh god..TMI!!"

 "Transmural myocardial infarction?" I'm truly confused now.

" No. Maur..!"  She waves her hands in front of her. "No. Now listen...You studied human sexuality with the purpose of..?"

"With the purpose of understanding you."

"Uh..well..that's certainly a new angle. And?"

"I have formulated an hypothesis."

"Oh god... I'm going to regret this." Jane coughs, straightens her back and turns to me. "Alright..let's hear it."

"Well." I swallow thickly. "I hypothesize that your sexual identity is within the asexuality spectrum."

She breathes out audibly, closes her eyes and turns away from me. Clipped and angrily she speaks: "You talked to my mom?"

"Yes? ..d..daily."

She sighs. "I know that. But I mean: did she talk about THIS with you?"

"No!" I almost shout. "Well yes. No. I just deduced... She didn't... You're angry." I state the overly obvious.

"No," she says, but she is lying. Somehow, in her anger, she still wants to spare my feelings. "Just... its weird, okay. It makes me feel weird."

"It's perfectly normal. In fact 12 percent of..."

She looks up.  "Don't. With the facts? Not now. Okay?"

I nod. I wait for her to speak again, but she doesn't. And so I finally ask: "Is my hypothesis correct? Are you?"

Jane combs a hand through her curls.  "I don't know. I never even knew that it was a thing, until my mom brought it up. She said she saw it on dr. Phil but I guess she meant dr. Maura, huh?"

"She asked me about a dr. Phil episode also. I thought she was asking for herself. I didn't connect the points until..."

"Dots."

"Yes? Oh. I didn't connect the dots until a few days later."

 

Jane sits with her head in her hands, fingers entangled in her hair for a few moments. Then she shakes her head and sits up. "Okay, look. I don't know. It's all new to me. But...I dont know. It feels like it might fit me." She coughs. "Yeah, so. What do you think?"

"I agree."

"You think so? Do you think its weird?"

"No."

She now looks right at me in the way that she would look at someone in the interrogation room. "Then why are you acting so strange?" she asks.

"Strangely."

She clenches her jaw and speaks my name through her teeth in a low voice. "Maura..!"

I shrug and look away to avoid those sharp brown eyes. "I don't know. Like you say: it's new. It puts everything in a new perspective. Um..."

"Spill."

"Divulge?"

"Yes."

"Um. Yeah, so do you experience a romantic orientation?." My heart skips a few beats and I feel the blood rising to my cheeks.

I glance sideways to Jane. She is frowning and studying my blushing face. My heart sinks and my flight or fight response kicks in. Adrenaline fueled I begin to rammble: "No, no of course you haven't had time to analyse that,  understandably. Its just that many people who are asexual tend to still develop feelings of love towards others..."

"Maura, breathe," she commands.

I notice I'm on the brink of hyperventilation once more, but i can't stop my chattering mouth. My thoughts just tumble out uncontrolably, disasterously. "It' just, I have  been flirting with you since we've met and I never got any response and so i thought you werent interested but now I'm wondering if I gave up too early. I have hopes that I should have been more open minded and should have made romantic advances instead of sexual ones, well that is to say: make them more openly but of course you haven't researched it. You dont know if you are romantically attracted to anyone, nor if women are included nor if i were included if women were included, so that makes me quite nervous, especially now that i realise that i said all this out loud."

I force my jaws onto eachother and desperately try to breathe in. 

"Maur?"

I wince. For the love of all that is good and holy, please don't let her be disgusted with me. "Yeah?"

"Did you just ask me out?" she asks.

"Yes, it appears i have."

"Why?"

Now there's a reaction I didn't expect. "Why? Don't you know? You're gorgeous my friend - inside and out. You are the most wonderful, most beautiful, most kind, most annoying, most loyal, most everything. Dating anyone else is second best."

"You love sex." 

It's a statement, not a question but I confirm nonetheless. "Yes."

"And I think we've just established that I don't." 

"Yes."

"Wouldnt that be a problem?"

"Nothing that cant be fixed with a quality vibrator or a showerhead."

"Oh eww. Maura!! TMI!!" 

I decide to let her reference to heart failure slip. "Well. I'm merely indicating that there are solutions if..." My fingers flutter in the air as my speech trails.

"Yeah," she says, staring down.

I'm confused. "Do you agree on my assessment that there are solutions to our sexual incompatabilty or do you agree on the possibility of a romantic connection?"

She shakes her head. "Pfff, too many words. Can you do that in English for the Nongenius now?"  

Her deep brown eyes are on me suddenly. I notice that she is fidgeting with the scars on her hands. She is as nervous as I am. It boosts my confidence somewhat. "Yes. Jane, will you - well marriage is somewhat presumptuous, yes?"

She lets out a shaky, deep chuckle. 

"Well then: will you explore a romantic compatibilty?"

Jane shakes her head vigourously. Her curls dance "Argh the words! Look: are you asking me out?"

"Yes," I say.

"Yes," she replies.

My heartbeat is very erratic again. Nervously I try to ascertain: "Are you agreeing on the notion that I'm requesting..."

Jane turns to me with a jolt and interrupts. "No. Nuh-uh, not again. Maura Isles, you complete weirdo, lovely weirdo, loveliest weirdo, i would like to date you."

"Oh." I let those glorious words sink in. And when they do I can't help but smile. I glance sideways at Jane just as she shyly glances to me. Seeing my smile, she grins and looks away.

"Can i hold your hand? Is that okay?" I ask her.

She doesn't reply verbally but her hand reaches out to cover mine. I lace my fingers through hers. A warmth and contentment spreads through me.

We sit in silence for a while. I suddenly remember with a jolt that I was supposed to host this evening. "Oh! The wine is still in the kitchen!"

"Later, ok?" Jane holds my hand more tightly for a moment. "Lets just sit here for a while. "

And we do. I revel in the unexpected intimacy that the absence of sexual urging allows for.

After a while she breaks the silence. " Are you sure, Maura? Do you really want to date me?"

I grin as I wait for her to look at me. "Yes, I'm sure, you lovely weirdo," I counter.

She laughs, her deep throaty beautiful laugh. "Touché!"

Another silence. I'm mesmerised that being alone with my thoughts can feel so together somehow. I press her hand.

"Wait," she says. "In the interest of compatibility: how do you feel about baseball jackets and popcorn?"

I look at her beautiful smile and the mischievious twinkle in her eyes.

"I feel they go perfectly with vulcanoes and Greek sunshine."

Her smile widens and I see nothing but deep love in her eyes. "Good," she says. " Just checking."

We're in for the long haul.


End file.
